Primal Substantia
by Heathenesque
Summary: The high walls and the new moon gave excellent coverage for a predator, but what could hide him could also hide his prey, and she knew this place far better than he did. Warnings: Rape Fantasies, Public Sex, Stalking, QuasiNonCon sorta, but not


_**Primal Substantia**_

He pressed back against the cool adobe as his heart pounded, tightening his chest –forcing his breath out in short gasps that rasped harshly in his ears. Anticipation fluttered in his stomach, down his thighs, around his groin, making his muscles twitch --protesting the stillness he willed into them. His body wanted to _move_ _now_, but to do so would give him away.

The wall he was against was cool against his bare thumbs and the tips of his index fingers, while the rest of his hands were enveloped in soft leather. _South or east. North and west walls would still be warm._ A quick glance up at the square of star spattered sky and he picked out a familiar constellation. Its position told him what time it was and which direction he was facing. _East, then_. _Closer to the heart of the city's _medinas

The cool air of the desert night couldn't cut through the sniper gear to alleviate the rising swelter of his blood singing with adrenaline, making sweat trickle down his back, plaster his hair to his scalp, and slick the insides of his gloves. He wanted to yank off the knit ski-mask; to dissipate the heat gathering there, but he didn't dare. Even in the deep gloom of the shadows, his light skin and hair could be a pale warning to his target.

Forcing his breathing to slow and quiet, he listened close to his surroundings. It was a myth that the desert slept at night; not even the city was completely silent. The people were abed, but life continued on, filling the air with sounds and scents that he had to differentiate. The squeak of metal joints were similar to the singing of the crickets, the hum of bearings much like the dusty breezes that whispered around the corners of this maze – the dull thump of feet on dirt mimicked the heavy rhythm of his pulse. He caught the soft _susurrus _of shallow panting… or was it just sand shifting?

Echoes made direction uncertain and he depended on dead reckoning --in listening, calculating--

--_stalking her_—

--tracking. He'd almost lost her twice tonight because of the confusion.

With no moon, the only illumination he'd had to guide him were the streetlamps on the main boulevards which he'd left far behind when he followed her deeper into the old city. As the alleyways narrowed, the buildings seemed taller and the shadows grew deeper –only broken by the occasional lighted window that granted nothing in the way of assistance in hunting her. In a way, the darkness made it easier for him. The high walls and the new moon gave excellent coverage for a predator, but what could hide him could also hide his prey, and she knew this place far better than he did.

He tilted his head up and tested a breeze as it drifted past. He could smell dry earth and spice and the sharp tang of metal that permeated this town, but within that was a hint of sweat and musk. He grinned; she was closer than he thought.

He cautiously inched along the building, careful not to rub against the rough wall --stepping as wary and light as though he were navigating a minefield. The patch of night sky had oriented him, but framed as it was by bottomless shadows it gave him no indication of how far away he was from the corner of the building. From the hiss of grit hitting stucco, he knew an intersection was ahead but he had to make a guess how near.

The wind gusted and he froze. He picked up the sound of a shutter creaking and banging once against its frame, but beneath that was a muted percussion that grew even fainter. She knew he was stalking her and used the opportunity the loose shutter gave to put some distance between them.

His pulse quickened at the challenge and he moved –swift and silent-- after her.

As he reached the corner, he caught a whispered scrape when she skidded to a stop, the hesitant crunch as she back-tracked, then the subtle _thump-thump-thump _that faded after she turned down another alleyway. Years of training and experience came into play as he rapidly filtered out the disorienting reverberation as the noises bounced off of close-set walls and repeated. He gauged her direction, then slipped across the alley and along the dwellings toward the next turn.

She was elusive and skilled, but she was getting sloppy as the hunt stretched out. It wouldn't be long now.

He found the passageway she'd slipped down and lurked just inside the entrance. Narrower than the rest so far, he could stretch his arms out and touch either side. A thrill of arousal surged through him when he realized the alley she'd taken was little more than a long alcove. He knew before he heard the frustrated slap of palms –one flesh, one metal-- against the barricade wall, that she had reached a dead-end. There was nowhere for her to go but past him, now.

She started to creep back toward the entrance of the alcove, but about halfway she stopped. She must have sensed his presence, because she became perfectly still. He had her trapped and the very thought of having her in his grasp made his breathing accelerate and his pants grow tighter. Muscles twitched… tensed… coiled; dark-adapted eyes dilated more and he was able to pick out a vague shape in the darkness that he knew had to be hers.

It was his turn to move. He pulled the ski mask up, exposing his nose to subtler scents and his skin to faint air movement and temperature shifts. Slow and noiseless; he had all the time in the world now. It mattered little that he could hardly see his hand in front of his face (although he would have enjoyed seeing the look in her eyes); he could hear her shallow pants, smell her scent, even feel the heat radiating off of her, growing warmer as he neared her.

When he was close enough to touch her, she let out a tiny squeak and tried to duck out of his reach. She was quick, but he was quicker as he lunged and caught her around the mid-section with one arm. Small, but not as light as she had appeared, she wrenched out of his grip, only to be dropped when he swung a leg out. She kicked him behind his knee and brought him down on top of her with a grunt. Taking his advantage, he wrestled her onto her stomach then used all his weight to hold her still.

One sound from her and it would be over; instead she rocked and bucked silently into his hardening cock. The sensation was overpowering and he responded with a slow circular grind against her ass as he trailed the tip of his tongue along a shoulder of flesh and behind her ear. Her skin was damp with sweat and tasted of salt and metal and the oil she used to tame her coarse hair. She bit back a whimper and shivered when he sucked a plump lobe into his mouth then gently worried at it with his teeth. Gripping both of her wrists with one hand over her head, he slipped the other beneath her and deftly loosened the belt that held pants two sizes too big for her.

He heard the sleepy shuffle of feet through the open window right over them an instant before the light came on.

Adrenaline surged again, flooding muscles and quickening reflexes. He came up, bringing her with him and freeing her wrists in favor of covering her mouth, both of them falling back against the wall outside the line where light met dark –just in time for the drowsy resident to open the door and step out. His arm tensed around her ribs, pressing her to him, and he could feel her heat soak through the layers of protective gear he wore to mingle with his own.

Multiplying… accelerating… sensations overwhelmed him. The drop of sweat that trickled over his finger, the feather-light, staccato brush of air as she breathed rapidly through her nose, the sound of her pulse pounding in her throat right next to his ear as he held her head tight to his shoulder. He could smell the metal of her automail where it met her flesh and heated, as well as the hint of sandalwood and spice that blended with the sourness of growing fear.

In the position they were in, she could easily break free, alert the man standing on the stoop and end it right then, but she kept still.

A metal hand wrapped around the exposed skin of his wrist, but she didn't pull it from her mouth. The automail against flushed skin was so cold it burned in his heightened state, and the breath he'd been holding escaped in a shaky gust that he muffled against her damp neck. He could feel her lips parting through the leather of his glove, then her tongue snaked around his exposed forefinger and she sucked it into her hot mouth, forcing him to bite down on her shoulder to keep from groaning. She inhaled sharply at the feel of teeth scraping against her flesh and a shiver quaked through her as her ass pressed back and ground against him.

The resident stood at his door and called a name then softly clucked, but didn't come any further into the dark. One step off the stoop in their direction, the scrape of a foot on sand or an unsuppressed moan at the wrong moment would expose them both and end the game in an instant. Silence –stillness- was vital to keep them from getting caught, but it was growing more difficult as their need magnified.

He cupped her breast and felt her nipple harden through the fabric as he skated his thumb over it and her teeth clamped down on the finger still in her mouth in an effort to silence a low moan. Pain was inconsequential, but the pressure made him tremble.

He nearly came unglued when he felt her pry her flesh hand between them and grip his aching cock through his pants, then with agonizing slowness she opened his fly and wormed her way inside. She curled her palm over his precum-drenched head, using it to help her glide along his shaft and he buried his face against her throat to muffle his ragged gasps while the man on the stoop continued to call for his pet, unaware of the activity only a few feet away.

The thrill of near detection amplified lust when the sound of a step alerted them that the man had moved.

Both of them froze, shaking, and he lifted his head off her shoulder only far enough to peek past a sweat-shined, dusky face and wide, dark eyes. As he watched, wary, waiting for the man to turn their way and become an unwilling witness, he released her breast and brushed the tips of his fingers down over her firm abdomen, causing the muscles to flinch. The loosening of her belt had left a gap at the front of her pants just the right size for his hand to continue its tantalizing journey, leaving behind the fabric of her shirt for damp, silky skin, through coarse, curled hair to probe heated lips. Teasingly, he explored the slick opening with two fingers and she struggled between remaining still and thrusting against his hand to increase the contact. The result was a lascivious combination of both that did little to satisfy her need but a lot to intensify it to the point her breathing came in short, sharp gasps and tiny cries that stayed in her throat. Her hand, still wrapped around his cock flexed rhythmically, driving him insane with the desire to throw her on the ground and fuck her then and there.

From deeper inside the dwelling, a muffled, feminine voice called out, and the man shuffled back through the door. A moment later, the alley was dark again, and the sound of squeaking springs filtered through the window as the resident settled back into bed.

They waited a moment to make sure no one else would be coming out that door, then he suddenly found himself shoved hard against the wall as metal fingers yanked off the ski-mask and tangled in his hair, forcing his head down as her mouth crushed his. Teeth and tongue attacked his lips… his chin… his neck… all the while her hand continued to grip and stroke his cock with an urgency that threatened to finish him off far too soon.

Before he completely spilled over the edge, she released him and began grasping at his ass, then she dug into his pocket and tugged out his wallet. Pulling her against him with one arm and clinging, he thrust his hips into her and sought the friction he desperately craved while she rifled through paper cens and photographs to extract a foil-wrapped packet.

He felt his wallet shoved back into his back pocket, then with a violent yank, they both tumbled to the dirt. He barely caught himself with his hands before he crushed her but their mouths crashed with a painful clack of teeth. Lips parted and tongues fought for dominance and a long, low, carnal groan escaped her to spiral down his spine and twist around his balls.

Bedsprings squeaked once more and muted, amorous noises began to filter through the open window.

Gasping… shaking… raw intensity bulldozing over the need for silence, she scrambled to completely unfasten his pants and jerk them down to his thighs. As she fought with the packet, he fumbled her pants over her hips, exposing automail thighs, knees, calves. His desire to devour every inch of smooth, dark skin was overwhelmed by the driving need to fuck her _now_ and the moment the sheath was rolled over his weeping, aching cock, he gripped her hips and flipped her over onto her knees.

He bit down hard on his lower lip to keep from howling as he plunged into her. Slick and hot and wanting, she gave him easy entrance and slammed back against him. The man he was disappeared under the surging power of naked, primal hunger as he pounded into her over and over. Blood roared in his ears nearly drowning out his own ragged gasps and her whimpers as she met his thrusts with her own. Skin slapped against skin in time with squeaking springs and passionate moans coming through the window voiced what they dared not.

The sounds of sex from inside the dwelling, her heat wrapped tightly around his cock, the smell of sweat and musk and dust and the metallic taste of his blood on his lip and tongue pushed him inexorably to the edge. He let go of her hip with one hand and slipped his fingers into her sex, brushing her clit. She tensed, shuddered and moaned and only a few strokes more, he followed, burying his face in her shoulder with a hitched breath that exhaled in a feral growl.

Jean got his breathing back under control and sprinkled light kisses over Paninya's shoulder and down her back --caressing her stomach to slide up under her shirt and gently fondle a soft, round breast. He wanted nothing more than to cover her like a human blanket and fall asleep, but he figured explaining that in the morning would be difficult at best. He found the energy to grasp his softening cock and the sheath as he pulled out of her. As he took off the protection and pulled his pants back up, Paninya stood and dressed, and he briefly wondered where she got the stamina –the best he could do was flop back against the wall.

He felt her weight as she straddled his lap and then she grasped his hand and pressed a small metal object into it that was still warm from being against her body.

"Ya think maybe next time you want laid," he said with a soft chuckle, "we could go someplace that has something a little softer to stick under my ass. You know… like a bed?"

She answered with a giggle and a light kiss on his lips, then she jumped up and dashed off.

With a sigh, he pulled a pack of cigarettes from the pocket of his vest and shook one out. Thumbing the lid of the item she'd placed in his hand and spinning the wheel, he lit the tobacco and took a long, luxurious drag.

_Well, at least I got my lighter back._


End file.
